Back from the Dead
Winter is the season of death, and it was all I could do to survive this past one. Our compulsions to work and eat the way we do in warmer and healthier times always seems to conspire against us during the coldest months, leaving us sniffly, feverish and bedridden. I suppose either we choose rest or nature chooses it for us – or at least so it was for me in February, the worst part of the Tokyo winter. But from every death comes new life, and the opportunity for that life to be better than the one that preceded it. Eventually, though too late, I listened to the dictates…
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